


Life's Too Short For Me To Stop

by hot_damn_louis



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: I literally know nothing about camping, I've been working on this for a while, M/M, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1848868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hot_damn_louis/pseuds/hot_damn_louis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zombies are real, and the disease is spreading. Harry and Louis both escape to the woods, and find each other. They both have hope until hope is the only thing that is driving them forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life's Too Short For Me To Stop

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Bulletproof by La Roux. 
> 
> I literally know nothing about camping. I don't know much about zombies. Sorry if everything doesn't quite add up. I tried my hardest to keep things consistent. 
> 
> **Warning:** This work contains descriptions of violence, death, and zombism. This work also has major character death.  
>  **Disclaimer:** This is based off of the public personas of One Direction. In no way do I own any part of them, their personas, or anything.  
>  My tumblr is [here](http://hot-damn-louis.tumblr.com/).

 

Louis woke up with a start, his back cramped up, his legs immobile. He waited a moment, his ears reaching out for sounds, his eyes seeking some sort of clue to why he was curled up in a ball in a bathtub, the curtain drawn so all he could see was the dingy white tiles. He stood, slowly, his Vans slipping slightly on the slick bathtub, his body mildly disoriented. As he stood, the aching in his back started to go away, and his legs started to find their feeling, the tinglings of his legs waking up making him shudder with every movement. As he stood, waiting, his ears still reaching for sounds that weren't his own, he took a few labored breaths, his brain scrambling to come up with reasons why he was in a foreign bathroom.

Deciding to take a further step, he swept the shower curtain aside slowly, quietly, each hook skidding slowly along the curtain rod. After the curtain was open, revealing the rest of the small bathroom, he waited, his breaths loud in the small space. He tried to quiet his breathing, grimacing at the pain in his ankle as he stepped out of the tub. He looked down, expecting to see a bruise or something, but it was nothing too bad. He knew that it was most likely a twisted ankle, or even just a cramp from sitting in the same position for so long.

Once both of his feet were on the solid ground, he looked around. The only items identifying if anyone was living there was the pair of pink, fluffy slippers sitting just next to the tub. He took one large step, landing him in front of the mirror, one long crack splitting Louis' face in half. His hair was disheveled, the back sticking out like an anime character. Shrugging, he opened the bathroom door, immediately hit by a foul stench. It was only mild, like old cheese, but as he walked towards what he thought was the living room, the smell grew stronger, a slew of decaying scents assaulting his nose. He grimaced, immediately going to the sink to get some water, but when he turned the tap on, nothing came out. His eyebrows pulled together as he looked in the fridge, the light off and the food only mostly cold, the fridge emitting no more cold air. It didn't seem like the power had been off for long because everything inside the fridge was still mostly cold to the touch. Louis grabbed a soda, the only drink in the fridge, and popped the top, the sound too loud. As Louis sipped the soda, an awful Coca Cola remake, he walked into the adjoining room, people passed out on the couch.

But, wait. Was that blood staining one person's chest? That one guy had his arm broken unnaturally, the lower part of his forearm resting in a strange position. Louis held his hand to his mouth, dropping his mostly full soda on the spongy carpet. All of these people looked dead. Not in the oh-shit-my-parents-found-out-about-my-party way, but in a I-don't-have-a-pulse way. Louis walked over, his shoulders heaving with silent sobs. He felt at the closest girl's neck, her left leg missing a foot and a long gash extending from her sternum to her belly button. There was nothing, like Louis expected. Absolutely nothing. Just skin that was cold to the touch, the carpet matted with dried blood underneath each body, uneven bite marks marking up their arms and legs.

Louis gasped loudly, his body practically doubling over with the horror of the situation, his breath labored. He recognized one of the bodies to be one of his good friends, Eleanor. Her neck lay back awkwardly, crumpled in on itself like a slinky. Louis reached out to her, his arm not quite reaching her torn up leg, silent tears running down his cheeks like it was a race. She looked so beautiful, even in death, her eyes still made up with last night's makeup, her lips still the berry red color that Louis and her agreed was 'her color'. He wiped his eyes hastily, reaching into his pocket where his phone was, pulling it out to call the police, the phone already ringing before he composed himself completely. Instead of picking up right away, it continued ringing. And ringing. And Louis waited biting on his closed fist to hold back sobs for his friends.

After about a minute of the phone ringing, Louis dropped the phone, curling into a ball on the floor. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, each body like another rag doll that was God's plaything. Louis couldn't just stand there, his sobs starting to clear up. He stood uneasily, walking quickly to the window to look outside, to see if anyone was there to help him. Outside, things were almost worse. People were stumbling around, most of them having some form of bite mark on their bodies. Louis bit back a gasp, seeing one moaning creature bite into a seemingly fine human being, its teeth sinking into his flesh sharply, the man crying out in pain and stumbling the ground. Three other bitten up beings leaped on him, biting any surface possible. Louis stumbled away from the window, pushing the curtains back into place.

Zombies. There could be no other option.

Louis went through a quick mental checklist, attempting to organize his thoughts quickly in order to form a plan of action.

No power?

Check.

No one answering the phone?

Check. That must be really bad.

Creatures that looked like zombies?

Check.

Bodies in the other room that could possibly be infected?

Check. Check. Check. Check.

Louis needed to get out of there, and quick, before these people rose up as zombies.

Louis racked his brain, trying to come up with ideas for supplies, his brain not quite organized enough for rational thought. Ditching his cell phone on the kitchen counter, he went in search of a backpack or hiking bag. Something that he could carry things in. He ran quickly back into the hallway where the bathroom was, poking his head into each room till he found a room that looked like a teenage boy's room. Louis was 22, but he was short, so he hoped that the boy's clothes would fit. He rifled through the room, finding a school bag almost empty sitting in a corner. Since it was summertime, he didn't expect much to be in the backpack anyways. After dumping everything out of the main pocket and the front pocket, he went in search for supplies. He had a list in his mind, filled with items that would only be practical if he were going camping. He opened the closet doors, searching for something, anything, that would be of practical use. He spotted a pair of jeans, ones that would fit him a bit looser than the skinny jeans he had on, checking the tag before tossing them on the unmade bed next to the backpack. Quickly grabbing a thick jumper and a hoodie, he rolled the three clothing items into the camping bundles he learned how to make, remembering to grab extra socks and underwear. The three bundles weren't heavy, but the took up the entire bottom layer of the backpack.

Running from the boys room to the kitchen, he opened the pantry, grabbing out a few cans of beans, remembering to toss in a can opener along with them. He quickly grabbed a box of power bars, opening the box and letting the bars loose into the backpack. He snagged the metal water bottle off the counter, filling it with water from a plastic water bottle before tossing that in the backpack. Louis, with the mostly full backpack, checked all of the doors before finding one that opened into the garage he barely remembers from the night before. Inside, among the many piles of useless things, there was a waterproof watch laying on top of a small camping blanket. Louis latched the watch onto his wrist (a compass built into the watch) and shoved the blanket into his bag.

Next was to find a weapon, any sort of weapon, some sort of tool, anything. He searched through the stack of 'camping' items, tossing a small folding chair and a tent away before his eyes landed on a small rolled up tarp. Without thinking, Louis shoved the rolled up tarp into his backpack, room for only a bundle of rope that lay beneath the tarp. Zipping up the bulging bag, Louis searched for a knife, finding two hunting knives at the bottom of the stack, along with a small flashlight and some matches. Those took up the front pocket, the backpack having no room left inside. Louis quickly left through the side garage door, the bright light of the midday striking his eyes harshly.

Louis was in the middle of suburbia. He could not remember whose party it was, already being drunk when he arrived, so he had no idea where he was, or what part of the city he was in. Louis knew only a few things at this moment in time. That he was human, and those with the sickly looking skin were most definitely zombies. And that he was in the US, and not in London, where he typically lived. Keeping his eyes wide open, Louis looked quickly around, trying to determine which way that he should walk. Ultimately, he decided that he shouldn't walk in the open, and that it was easier to walk in the hidden shadows of backyards and side streets. After scanning his surroundings one more time, spotting a large, foliage covered hill to his left, he decided that was where he would go.

 

It was hot. Too hot. The back of Louis' neck was sweating as he weaved through the last few houses that bordered the treeline. He only ran into trouble once on his almost two mile trip. Two zombies had cornered him as he had to cross a major street, but he managed to outrun them, just barely, his hiding behind a car saving his life. Another thing Louis learned: The zombies were downright dumb. They couldn't tell where you were going unless they saw you, and if they didn't see you, they kept running anyways.

Once safely inside the treeline, the houses disappearing even more with each step Louis took, he felt his body relax. Not completely, of course, but his back didn't feel as tight, and his legs didn't feel like they needed to burst at any moment. He felt collected, calm. He felt as if he were taking a hike in the woods, not running away from the college town he had been staying at. Louis quickly made distance, the years of him playing football outweighing the years he didn't, each step carefully placed with the careful feet he developed. The path he was making went uphill, the air growing cooler the denser the foliage. He knew that soon he would have to put on the hoodie, at least, maybe even the jumper for at night. He knew he needed to make a campfire, set a base camp, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Worries rattled around in his brain, each around the stupidity of starting a fire.

Hours later, as the sun was setting and the light growing poor in the trees, Louis decided to stop, his feet tripping over each and every little branch in the low light. Instead of starting a fire, Louis made a small camp for himself next to a fallen tree, using the fallen tree as a backrest as he set out the tarp he had and laying the blanket over him as a covering. He cursed himself for not grabbing one of those heat reflecting sleeping bags, but was grateful he remembered to grab the jumper, the air settling in for something cold through the night. Pulling the jumper on over the light gray t-shirt he had, Louis settled down, tucking his body into the fallen tree, using it to provide support. Louis almost couldn't sleep, his brain to awake to let itself rest, but he found himself succumbing to sleep, his eyes growing heavy with each passing minute.

 

"You bumbling idiot, what are you doing?" Louis heard, snapping him awake. He jolted upward, his body in fight-or-flight mode, his brain prepared for everything. All he saw, though, was a guy in too tight skinny jeans and a scoop neck black t-shirt, his hair tied back with a scarf. He had a heavy duty camping backpack, and a walking stick in one hand. The air was still cool, but the sun was up, lighting up the forest. Louis had his backpack wedged underneath his head, his body curled into a tight ball. Louis quickly stood, pulling his backpack out from underneath him, scanning this guy's arm for bite marks or the sallow skin he knew to look for.

"I was trying to sleep, okay? The past 24 hours have been pretty weird for me, I don't know how far I walked to get here, and all I know is that my best friend was killed by those stupid zombies," Louis said, fretting as he hastily rolled up the tarp and blanket, shoving them into his bag.

"My name is Harry," the guy said, holding out his hand for Louis to shake.

"Louis," Louis said uncertainly, shaking his hand limply. Harry waited patiently for Louis to zip up his bag before launching into what he was going to say.

"To be honest, I saw you make camp yesterday. I was only about twenty yards off in that direction," Harry said, pointing uphill, "when I saw you come through the trees, stumble actually, and hide behind this tree. Good hiding spot, if you ask me," Harry said quickly, his hands moving with every word. "So I decided to come and tell you that nothing is over that hill. Just some abandoned grocery stores with absolutely nothing in them except rotting milk and zombies. Not pleasant. I was going to head north, maybe see what was in store," Harry continued.

"Like, hike with me?" Louis said, feeling the hunger setting into his stomach. Silently, he told his stomach to shut up, to contain the desperate growling.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I mean, I never thought there would be a zombie apocalypse in my lifetime, but hey, what are you to do about it? And, wouldn't an apocolypse be quite lonely without someone to hang out with? Might as well make a few friends while the world is going to shit. My cell phone was still working right after the first EMP hit, so I managed to call and find out that the whole zombie thing is pretty localized to just this area, but if the rest of the country don't get to it quickly, we will have a worldwide disaster on our hands, eh?" Harry monologues, not quite looking at Louis, but rather to a spot a bit to his left.

"Hey, if we partner up, we could split our stuff. Ration equally. It would make walking easier, with someone to always watch your back," Louis suggested, shrugging.

"Cool," Harry responded, smiling at him, two adorable dimples sticking out from his cheeks. "So, what have you been up to in the past day of horror?"

 

Louis and Harry hit it off. It was like two puzzle pieces finally finding their mate. The way they clicked was just perfect, Harry warming up to Louis quickly, and Louis soon telling the old party jokes he had stored up. They hiked, stopping quite frequently, trying to find some form of more permanent shelter, something besides a tree. When they would stop, Louis would find a solid tree and climb, looking out over the woods to see if he could see a break in the trees, indicating some form of clearing or building. After a while of walking, aimlessly and mostly north, they decided to sit, eat a bit, as the sun rose to a position almost directly above their heads.

"Do you have real food?" Harry asked, pulling out a rumpled granola bar from his backpack, making a face at the granola bar as he read what flavor it was.

"I was at a party the night it happened. Was blackout drunk and didn't even notice what was happening. Or zombies were anywhere. Managed to grab a few cans of beans," Louis said, pulling out a can to show to Harry. Before Louis could even say anything else, the can was out of his hand and in Harry's, Harry's hands running over the smooth surface. "Anyways, how did this whole zombie thing happen?"

Harry hummed a bit of a song, tossing the can back to Louis. "Don't open that. Save it. Eat the food that will perish first. You don't know how long we are gonna be out here, and if we are gonna get anything as good as that," Harry said to Louis, looking him in the eye, his eyes more intense than they usually were. Louis quickly put the can back, pulling out a power bar and quickly eating it. They crunched their small lunch in silence, Harry waiting to speak again. "I know that the EMP doesn't explain the whole zombie thing, but it makes sense I guess. Sometime before the EMP hit, a batch of hamburger meat with mad cow disease came out and was distributed throughout the US. It just so happened that this ridiculously mutated meat turned people into zombies. The two events coincided, whether it be by coincidence or on purpose, this fucking sucks. My sister is one of... them," Harry continued, quieter now, the second half of his granola bar crunched in his fist. "The meat came out a while ago. Localized patch. Apparently it was meat that was served last year. Thank God I'm a vegetarian."

"Fuck, man. Someone might have done this on purpose?" Louis said.

Harry nodded. "Hell, we might never find out who did this. What if this thing takes over the globe? Spreads to every corner of the Earth? What if we are royally screwed?"

"I'm just glad that my mum and sisters still live in Doncaster. If they were here, there would be nothing I wouldn't do for them," Louis said, not looking at Harry anymore, but looking at the ground.

Louis felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and into Harry's eyes. "Well, guess the world is fucked up for now. You did a smart thing, running. Who knows? Everyone who didn't have the right mind to run might be dead in the city."

"Dead? Three of my closest friends are still in the city, Harry. The entire city being dead isn't  a pleasant thought," Louis said, shrugging Harry's hand off of his shoulder.

"Fine, but you know what? I want a more permanent shelter before sundown. Hopefully some water too. I'm almost out," Harry said, ending the conversation and standing up. Louis stood up to, pulling his heavy pack over his shoulder and following Harry back into the woods.

 

Sometime later, (about two hours by Louis' watch) they had found a small stream, a natural stream, and were able to fill their water bottles without the water being too dirty. They both agreed to walk upstream, their hands brushing ever so often, Louis shedding his jumper with the heat, Harry dawning a sun hat as they made their way along. Soon, after Louis' hand continually knocking into Harry's, Harry just moved away slightly, crossing his arms instead of letting them dangle. He still kept his posture open, and the conversation loose.

They talked about everything. Everywhere from their parents to their school lives, to where they lived in England when they were kids. Why they were in america. Their favorite movies, their favorite books. Everything that came to mind was said, from serious to silly. From horrible first dates to cute sibling stories. They talked even though they didn't need to, the sun slowly setting as they made their way along, almost like a stroll in the park rather than a hike away from a zombie ridden city.

Louis stopped suddenly, losing Harry in the slowly dimming light. "Do you see that there?" Louis asked, pointing out an area just a few yards to the right, a path, one that led to something further.

"Lou," Harry said quietly, do you want to check it out? I can wait here for you," Harry said, running a finger down the back of Louis' arm, a friendly yet strangely intimate gesture. Louis looked him in the eye, seeing his slight concern through his poker face.

"I'll be quick, alright? I have a good feeling this is something important. Not just a path, but even a cabin. It might be actual shelter, you know? I mean, hopefully we can claim it, have something stable to go off of," Louis reasoned, lifting his hand to touch Harry's shoulder gently. Louis turned, walking up the slight incline and through the trees, following the worn in path upward until the ground flattened out a few minutes later. A little worried about leaving Harry, Louis quickened his pace, seeing a small wooden structure ahead.

"Harry!" he called out, hoping that Harry would hear him. "Harry, you there?" Louis called again, turning back where he came from. The light was darker now, and he knew he needed to hurry. Quickly whipping out his flashlight, Louis walked up to the small cabin, the front porch sagging, the screen door torn apart from use. He went to open the door, finding it locked, but with a quick search, recovered  a key from underneath the doormat. Opening the door, he let out stale air and silence, the pure silence of the house alarming as Louis had gotten used to the sounds that the nature made. It seemed empty, two 'rooms' that were open on each other, a couch that would obviously be a hide-a-bed, and a small area with a table and some cabinets. A door signified a bathroom, but in reality it was a backdoor that lead out to an outhouse. Jogging quickly, Louis headed back to where he left Harry, excited to tell him about his find, but before he was halfway back to Harry, he heard a noise, a guttural noise, the sound tearing through the forest, a moan that was loud and angry sounding. Quickening his speed, Louis stumbled along the path until it shot him back to the stream, where a shaking Harry was spotted.

"Saw something, Lou, is there shelter up there?" Harry asked, jogging two steps over to him.

"Yes, there is something for us," Louis said, handing Harry the flashlight, the air around them almost dark, branches hidden by the low lighting. Louis grabbed out one of the hunting knives he had, holding it tightly in his hand as he urged Harry to walk to the path, whispering quickly to hurry up, to quicken his pace, because being caught in the dark in the woods was something everyone knew to avoid. A rustling in the bushes to Louis' right indicated something nocturnal. Who knows how far the zombies got in the day that Louis and Harry were lazily hiking around. Louis hurried Harry up the hill, his hand resting gently on Harry's back, a hunting knife clenched tightly in his other hand, prepared for anything.

When they came to the clearing where the house was, there was nothing, just a wide expanse of darkness, rustling through the trees as the wind blew sharply. Louis shivered, not realizing the chill until now, quickly running the last few steps, slamming the cabin door behind them. When he peeked through the cabin window, he saw a raccoon darting across the clearing.

"Shit, Lou, that was scary," Harry said, wrapping his arms around himself. "I mean, getting caught out there in the dark? It was scary the first night but now it's terrifying. You never know what that stupid EMP caused," Harry continued, shaking a bit.

Louis crossed over to him quickly, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. "Love, it will be okay. We have shelter. And a stream not too far away. We can sit around here for a while, alright?" Louis said, burying his face in Harry's chest. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' shoulders, squeezing him tightly before letting go.  

"I am tired, scared, and ravished. Mind if we eat something before we sleep?" Louis asked, rubbing Harry's arms gently, Harry's face still melancholy. Harry just sat on the couch, head in his hands.

"Sorry I freaked a bit. One time when my sis and I were camping we were frightened by this bear. It was growling and lumbering around and was overall scary. We were lucky because we outran the bear, but it still scared me. I was only ten at the time. I've just been terrified of the dark since," Harry whispered, his head still in his hands.

"Hey, it's okay," Louis said, sitting next to Harry and gently rubbing his back with a flat palm. "We can stay inside until daylight. Hell, we can just hang out here for a while, okay?" Louis added cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. Harry turned his head to look at Louis, smiling faintly.

"Why don't we see what kind of things they got in here?" Harry said with a weak smile. They stood, crossing the few steps into the 'kitchen' area, each of them taking one of the cabinets on the floor. Harry's had canned food, at least thirty cans ranging from beans to canned corn to tomato sauce, whereas Louis' cabinet had a small barbeque grill, some utensils, and a few Slim Jims.

"Slim Jims?" Harry asked as Louis held out one.

Louis shrugged. "It's edible. But I saw we eat some of this canned food. These cans say they expire in a month," Louis said, crawling over to where Harry was sitting on the floor to examine one of the cans of refried beans.

"Sucks that we can't heat it up or anything," Harry said wistfully. He sat back on his hands, breathing out heavily.

"Already missing the joys of the modern world?" Louis asked, smirking at Harry as he leaned back on his heels.

Harry nodded, letting his head hang back and closing his eyes. "I miss the tele. That is what I miss most. I mean, I missed seeing Master Chef! I don't know who cooked the bad yam and potato mash, nor will I find out if Gordon Ramsey flips his shit about the girl who doesn't know how to cook lobster," Harry said quietly, a smile dancing on his lips.

"Well, get used to it," Louis said, nudging Harry with his foot as he stood up. Louis crossed over to his bag, pulling out the can opener and cracking open the can, the smell of beans filling the cabin quickly.

"Spoons?" Harry asked as Louis walked back to where he was sitting on the ground. Louis nodded, and Harry leaned over to grab two from the cabinet to his right. Instead of sitting at the table, they dined on the floor, their spoons dipping into the beans occasionally, making faces at each other to show how grossed out they were at the idea of eating cold beans, yet eating them nonetheless. Harry kept telling stories about him and his sister, Gemma, and all the times they snuck food into their rooms. Especially sweets.

"I would sneak into our kitchen just to grab some Oreos. I mean, those aren't even the best cookies out there yet I loved 'em," Harry said, smiling at Louis before looking down at the can. All Louis could think about was the fact that he found such an attractive traveling partner.

 

When Harry could no longer keep his eyes open, Louis pulled out the couch bed, throwing his blanket on top for himself. He learned that the couch bed didn't have any sheets. But, Harry had a sleeping bag rolled up in his backpack, and he slept in that, the two sleeping side by side in a bed, their togetherness almost symbolizing the rise of a new era.

Or they were just sleeping side by side, platonically, like friends who are being chased by zombies typically do.

 

The next morning, Louis woke with a start, his lower half cold, a warm arm pressed against his torso. He fussed, his eyes opening slowly, his body already awake. Louis' blanket was pulled on top of Harry, Harry's arm slung across Louis' waist, his head buried into Louis' side. Louis just looked at Harry, his serene face peaceful in sleep.  Louis wiggled slowly sideways and out of Harry's grip, trying to move slowly. He couldn't just leave Harry, but Louis had to take a wee, and he didn't think that Harry would appreciate wee in the bed.

After Louis came back from the outhouse, the sun outside rising steadily, Harry was laying in bed, awake, perfectly content with having the sleeping bag and the blanket. He watched as Louis opened his bag and traded out his shirt for his jumper.

"Enjoying the view?" Louis said quietly, his voice carrying over the empty cabin.

"Of course I am," Harry replied, raising his eyebrow at Louis. They just smiled at each other, Harry's dimples showing and Louis' eyes crinkling. They knew this was a start of something. They just didn't know what. Yet.

 

The next week proceeded without too much craziness. Louis unearthed an old radio lamp from inside the outhouse, run by solar power, creating a permanent source of light, as long as they remembered to charge it. They turned on the radio, listening to the newscasters as they described what was happening to much of the west coast, especially California. After an hour of listening, Harry turned it off, preferring to sit in the silence.

The next day (day 2 of the week) Louis and Harry made a trek for firewood to cook some of the food sitting in the cabinet. No zombies spotted. More pandemonium on the radio. Harry got disgusted and turned it to mariachi music instead.

Day three of the week Harry brought out a pack of cards he found at the bottom of his backpack. After three hours of poker, Harry lost and had to make dinner for the both of them.

Day four of the week brought more pandemonium on the radio. Apparently the disease was only affecting the US and parts of Canada and Mexico. At least both Louis and Harry's families were safe in England. Louis went outside to get water for them, but the creek looked dirty, so they had to boil the water to ensure that it was clean.

Day five of the week brought more devastating news over the radio. Half of the stations were static, and the other half were music stations that were now playing news all the time. After flipping through once, Harry settled on the only music station left in the area: the Spanish music station. They listened to mariachi music and guys crooning in spanish for hours.

Day six of the week meant that most of the radio stations weren't working anymore. Harry's eyebrows were pulled into an almost constant frown. One of the last remaining stations was advertising a safe house just north of the city, right off of the highway. Harry said he didn't want to go. Louis agreed.

Day seven of the week, Harry threw up outside the backdoor after learning the death estimates. Louis turned off the radio. The last remaining station was weak anyways. Louis and Harry just sat, that day. Just sitting and doing nothing.

 

"Louis, we're almost out of food," Harry said the next week, staring hopelessly into the cabinet. They had rationed out their food, cutting down, only eating twice a day instead of three times. All they had left was a jar of spaghetti sauce and their last remaining box of noodles.

"Lets just finish it off today," Louis said after a moment. "We can eat a lot, pack up, and travel to somewhere new. Any of those stinkin' Slim Jims left?" Louis asked.

"Yup," Harry replied. "Exactly six," he added, looking at Louis.

Louis just nodded. "Make up the last of the food. I'm going to look around and see if I can't find anything else. Hopefully this cabin has some sort of hidden compartment filled with food," Louis said quietly, smiling sadly at Harry.

Louis lay back on the rug that covered the floor in front of the couch. He thought, and thought, and thought until he came up with an idea. Quickly turning over, he pulled the rug up, revealing a small trap door. He opened it to reveal a ladder that lead downward.

"Hazza," Louis said, beckoning Harry over. Harry stood above him, eyes widening with Louis' discovery. Harry handed Louis the lantern and Louis dropped down, his feet hitting the packed dirt ground below him. After a moment, Harry followed him down, his feet slipping on the wooden rings of the ladder. The lantern illuminated the space with eerie shadows, making the whole basement room seem scarier than it would normally be.

"Wow," Harry said. It was nearly empty, nothing on the floor space. Just a cabinet with bottles of liquor on one wall, and a gun rack on the other. Louis lifted up one of the guns, seeing an ammo box next to it.

"This is amazing," Louis said. At Harry's shocked expression, he revised his statement. "I mean, this is the thing we are going to need if we are going to survive in this zombie apocalypse," Louis said.

"I understand that," Harry said, opening the liquor cabinet. At the bottom was a box of cigarettes and a jar of Nutella. Harry held them up, surprised to see Louis' eyes hungrier for the cigarettes.

Louis snatched the box of cigarettes from Harry, examining the label. "I'm so happy I could kiss you right now," Louis said finally, looking gleefully at Harry.

"Why don't you?" Harry found himself saying, cocking an eyebrow at Louis. Louis stepped closer until their bodies were flush with each other, Louis having to lean up on his tiptoes to kiss Harry. Their mouths barely brushed, just a light kiss, one that was sensual and chaste at the same time. Harry shivered when Louis pulled away, resisting the urge to pull him back.

"C'mon," Louis said after a moment. "I'm going to smoke a cigarette, we are going to have a few spoonfuls of that heaven," Louis said, gesturing to the Nutella,"and then we will pack up to leave at daybreak tomorrow. Deal?"

"Deal," Harry said, smiling at Louis. They stared at eachother for a moment, cheeky grins stuck on their faces, before ascending the ladder. Louis went first, Harry following close after, his face close to Louis' perfect arse.

 

They woke up the next morning when the light started to shine through the windows of the cabin. Harry and Louis both donned their backpacks. the handguns at the bottom clinking against their clothes. They each had a pistol tucked into the waistband of their jeans, and Louis carried a sawed-off shotgun. Their extra ammo was in their backpacks, too, making them extra heavy. They trekked, following the river up stream, hopefully leading them to another useful cabin with food. At their 'lunch' break, Louis smoked another cigarette nervously, barely eating his Slim Jim. They saved 90% of the Nutella, not daring to eat something so rich until later.

They didn't talk much, instead just hiking, their labored breaths taking up any talking room. They especially didn't talk about the kiss from earlier, instead letting it string them together, this unseen bound of trust that had lead them to the kiss still strong.

According to Louis' watch, it was two in the afternoon, and both Louis and Harry were tired from hiking. They weren't very fast, they both needed lots of breaks along the way, and they had drank the last of their boiled water.

"Harry?" Louis asked after a moment, watching Harry examine the trees.

Harry turned to look at him. "Yeah?" he said, biting his lip, his curls greasy and tied to his head with the scarf. Louis had his hair pulled back in the beanie that Harry had tucked away.

"C'mere," Louis said, his voice gruff. Harry just raised his eyebrows, but walked over to Louis anyways. Louis, from his sitting position on a log, grabbed Harry's hips and pulled him down so Harry was sitting in his lap.

"Oh," Harry exclaimed, resting his forearms on Louis' shoulders. Harry's knees framed Louis' hips, and Louis' hands gripped Harry's waist just above his jeans. Without another word, Louis pulled him down for a kiss, their mouths moving together easily. Harry edged slightly closer, his head tilted down to meet Louis' mouth.

When they broke away, Harry was slightly out of breath, and Louis felt good. "I've wanted to do that for a while," Louis admitted. Harry just nodded, climbing off Louis so he could sit next to him.

"I wish we met in a more normal way," Harry says wistfully, reaching one arm out to drape across Louis' shoulders. They sit in silence, their breaths slow and deep, their eyes watching the earth around them.

 

They found another cabin that same day, just a mile or two up the river. They didn't see any zombies, but there was evidence of zombies behind the cabin. There was a half eaten deer in the back, bite marks taken out of the fur. Harry held a hand over his mouth and nose when he saw the deer, turning away quickly. "Can we not?" he mumbled, brushing by Louis on his way back into the cabin.

This cabin was almost worse than the last one. It had less food, and a twin bed instead of a fold out queen. Harry didn't look to hot, either. He was pale after seeing the deer, and didn't even want to eat.

"Haz," Louis said as Harry lay on the mattress.

Harry shook his head. "Just come cuddle with me. Please?" Harry asked, his eyes half closed, his voice gruff with the impending sleep. Louis nodded, joining him on the bed. curling into his side. Louis tucked Harry's head against his chest, and Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Louis. "I'm so tired, Lou," he muttered into Louis' chest, sighing deeply.

"Me too," Louis said sorrowfully.

 

The next day, Louis wanted to try out the radio again, in some hope that maybe a camp had gotten one working, and were broadcasting. Louis fiddled with the knobs while Harry prepared something for breakfast. After about twenty minutes, Louis picked up a faint signal.

"This is base camp. We are located at the old Camp Phillips. We are a group of survivors. The camp is located off of Interstate Highway 5, north of Los Angeles," the radio said in a fuzzy voice.

"Harry. This is it. A camp of survivors. Maybe real food. We have to go," Louis said, smiling up at Harry as Harry handed him food.

"Are you sure?" Harry said, pulling his eyebrows together.

Louis nodded. "Love, this may be the only thing that will guarantee a future for either of us," Louis said quietly, taking a deep breath. "This may be the only way for us to stay safe," Louis continued, reaching up to grasp Harry's hand. Harry nodded, sitting on the floor next to Louis, his knee pressed against Louis'.

"Lou, I'm scared. What if we never make it there? I mean, we aren't well equipped. We aren't survival guides. I mean, we don't even have a compass," Harry fretted, running a hand through his dirty hair.

"Look, Harry. We just find I-5, which isn't too far from here I don't think. Then we walk along it till we get close. Hopefully it will be easier to spot the camp once we're on I-5," Louis reasoned, reaching out to touch Harry's shoulder. Harry nodded, eating.

"I just felt so confident coming into this, like it was all a game. It's not a game, Lou," Harry said quietly.

"I know its not," Louis mouthed, when Harry looked up at him.

 

They traveled for a week, each day checking in with the people broadcasting. Unfortunately, there was no way of communicating with this camp. Harry and Louis did look for houses along the way, trying to find something for food that wasn't a can of beans, or a pack of Slim Jims. Harry spent most of his time looking slightly sickly, his skin pale despite the hours in the sun. Harry also claimed not to be hungry, even though they hadn't had a proper meal in weeks.

"You gotta eat, babe," Louis said, stroking one hand over Harry's cheek, his thumb gliding across his cheekbone.

"I'm just not hungry," Harry said quietly, his hand cupping the back of Louis neck.

That didn't stop Louis from fretting. That didn't stop Louis from cuddling him, and making sure he was warm enough, even if it meant that Louis went cold during the day. Louis would do anything for Harry, especially now that Harry was sick and deteriorating in front of his eyes. Louis cared so much for a boy that he only met just over a month ago. He wanted nothing more than for Harry to be well. He just wanted Harry to get to the camp. It wasn't too far off now.

 

When they hit the highway, Louis sighed with relief, plopping down on the road without a question, Harry following suit. They sat, staring at the woods, just sitting. "I'm glad we found the road," Louis said finally, scooting over and wrapping an arm around Harry's waist. Harry leaned into him, angling his head onto Louis shoulder. "I just hope we can find a working car. You're getting worse," Louis added, grimacing as he felt Harry's forehead with his other hand.

"Lou, you're just worrying too much about me," Harry said, twisting in Louis's arms to look at him. Harry's arms wrapped around Louis' torso, and Harry leaned up to kiss him. Just quickly, once, before standing up and breaking Louis' grasp. From the angle Louis was sitting, Harry was completely backlighted and almost angelic looking, despite the scraggly facial hair. Louis felt butterflies in his stomach, not in the nervous way, but in the excited way.

"Harry," Louis said softly, Harry turning his head to look at Louis, his eyes lighting up despite his sallow parlor. Louis just stared at him for a moment, trying to memorize the line of his jaw and the color of his eyes.

"Yes, love?" Harry responded, his voice gruff, his words punctuated by a loud cough.

Louis shook his head, accepting Harry's outstretched hand and stood up. "Nothing. You're just a cutie, is all," Louis said, bowing his head and blushing.

"Wanna hold hands while we walk?" Harry said, his fingers trailing down the back of Louis' arm.

"Of course," Louis said, smiling brightly at Harry. "I always want to."

 

After passing numerous cars, and admitting to each other that neither of them knew how to hotwire a car, they finally found one with a quarter of a tank of gas, and the keys left in the ignition. And a half of a pack of granola bars in the backseat.

Louis insisted on driving, Hopping in the drivers seat before Harry could even ask, reaching back and grabbing the box of granola bars, handing one to Harry the moment Harry was buckled up.

"I'm not hungry," Harry said, shaking his head.

Louis gave it to him more forcefully. "Eat it. I'm not letting you die slowly in front of me, not when we are getting so close to camp, where you can get treatment," Louis said, dropping the bar onto Harry's lap. Harry took it and unwrapped it anyways, chewing slowly and thoroughly on each bite. Louis drove carefully, squeezing in between cars, until the cars got too heavy and he couldn't drive anymore. They got out and continued to walk, Harry's appetite up, Harry munching on the granola bars Louis handed to him. It was silent. Oddly silent, and oh so close to where the camp was supposed to be. It was too silent for the middle of the highway, though.

"Harry, don't you think it's too quiet?" Louis asked, tugging on Harry's coat sleeve. Louis glanced around nervously, spotting a single zombie at the edge of the treeline about thirty meters away from them. "Harry we gotta walk faster," Louis added, quieter, grabbing Harry's hand and tugging him along. Louis noticed a shuffling sound behind them, but didn't slow, and didn't turn around.

"Louis, I don't know if I can run much longer," Harry wheezed, stopping, his hands on his knees, completely out of breath. Louis turned, now seeing the horror of at least thirty zombies following them; some young and moving fast, some slower.

"Harry we have to move now," Louis said as they drew nearer. Louis pulled his gun from his waistband, cocking it and pointing it shakily at the zombies that were growing nearer.

"Can't. Breathe," Harry coughed, pounding one fist against his chest. Louis grabbed under his armpits and hauled him along, slowly, almost slower than the zombie's walking. "Just leave me," Harry heaved, turning his head to throw up on the pavement.

"Harry, we are so close. C'mon!" Louis said urgently, holding his gun shakily at the zombies that were closing in. One closed in much faster, and before Harry could say anything, Louis pulled the trigger, the loud gunshot crackling through the air. The bullet hit the zombie in the chest, right in the middle. The zombie fell backwards, lying on the ground as other zombies trampled over it. Louis silently thanked his step father for taking him shooting before he left for the US.

"Leave me," Harry said, stumbling forward. With another tug on his arm, Harry started to run again, his legs tangling in themselves, tripping over the rocks in the road. Louis hated seeing Harry this sick and hated that the zombies were about to get them. Louis also hated the world, but for more than one reason.

When they distanced themselves from the zombies again, Harry fell back, dry heaving. All Louis could do was rub his back and watch as the zombies grew nearer. Louis shot another zombie, one that had grown too close to the two of them. The bullet hit it in the face, brains scattering on the pavement. Louis helped Harry up and they continued along. But something wasn't right. It was too silent behind them. Before Louis could turn around, Harry was ripped back, an agile, young zombie pulling him back, his teeth sinking into Harry's shoulder. Louis walked right up and shot the zombie, deafening both him and Harry. He pulled Harry away, seeing an open car door. He shoved them both in the car, and closed the door, locking it from the inside.

"Louis, leave me," Harry moaned, breathing heavily. Harry gripped his shoulder, attempting to stop the blood flow, tears starting to form in his eyes.

"No, babe, I'm not leaving you. We can make it to the camp. We can get you a cure. We can save you, alright?" Louis said shakily, running his hands over Harry's face and neck, trying not to cry. Harry just nodded, but both of them knew that in hours Harry would be one of them. One of the zombies.

"Lou," Harry whispered, grimacing when he moved his shoulder. He reached up and stilled Louis' arms, smiling weakly. "I'm going to go. I'm going to go to the camp with you, alright? We can find a cure there," Harry said calmly, assuring only Louis. They waited in the car for nearly an hour, waiting for the crowd of zombies to disperse. They seemed to get bored, lose the scent of Louis and Harry, and amble off. Louis pulled Harry out the other side of the car, leading him in between cars as they worked their way towards the camp again. When night fell, dampening the colors of the surrounding earth, making everything seem scarier than it actually is. Harry's condition was worse, a hacking cough added to his symptoms, and with every cough he grimaced because of his torn up shoulder.

Right about time when Louis was about to fall asleep, he noticed Harry with a far off look, slack jawed, dead looking in the eyes. "Hazza?" Louis asked. Harry turned towards him, looking hungrily at him, and not in the good way. Then he shook his head, snapping out of it.

"I'm not feeling very well," Harry said quietly, putting one hand on an abandoned car to hold himself up. Louis teared up, knowing that Harry would be a zombie before they even reached the camp.

Louis nodded. "Lets just rest, shall we?"

 

In the morning, Louis knew something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong. Harry was gone from his spot next to Louis, and instead sitting on a car hood, staring off into the distance. He had a blank expression, and he looked almost a sickly green. "Harry?" Louis called out unsurely. Harry turned his head, and then started for Louis. Louis took a step back, watching as Harry moaned and drooled, blankness in his eyes.

"Harry?" Louis said again, crying this time, tears slipping out silently. Harry closed the distance, until they were close, and Louis whipped out his gun, cocking it and holding it in front of him. Harry continued, reaching out for Louis, the zombified look on his face.

"Oh, Hazza," Louis said quietly. "I love you, so so much," Louis added, his hand trembling. Louis sucked in a hard breath, blinking quickly to expel the tears in his eyes. 

One shot rang out in the open stretch of road. One body hit the pavement with a sickening crunch. One life was officially ended at the hands of Louis Tomlinson.

Louis sobbed over Harry's lifeless body, not daring to touch his body, or even look at the bloody mess that replaced his face. Louis stood up shakily, rubbing at his nose, realizing what he just did. Realizing he just ended the life of the boy he loved oh so dearly. Louis' tears dropped down onto Harry's body, and Louis wondered if his tears could somehow bring him back to life.

without another word, Louis grabbed a few dandelions from the side of the road and placed them in Harry's outstretched hand, and a few on his chest. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Louis walked away, leaving Harry behind.

 

Louis didn't get to the camp until late the next day, walking non stop until he got there. They were hasty about letting him in, giving him multiple physical examinations and trying to determine if he was safe. They asked him questions, and he answered truthfully, not leaving out a single detail about his journey with Harry. When they asked about Harry, Louis couldn't answer, his voice thick and his eyes heavy with tears. They placed him in a cabin with two other guys his age, Louis taking one of the four beds.

It took Louis weeks to finally deal with Harry's death. He woke up to nightmares almost every night, and was reminded of Harry every day because of the curly haired boy that lived in the camp. Louis was no help around camp, and he was almost afraid that they would lock him out. Louis hated when it was his turn to clean the kitchen because it reminded him too much about times when he cleaned after Harry.

Louis was depressed. He couldn't quite get around that part. Even after months at the camp, he couldn't look at anyone in the eye. He couldn't stop thinking about Harry. He enlisted one of the artist girls who was always hanging around to draw Harry. He described Harry in great detail, and her sketch was almost a perfect replica of what Harry looked like in life.

Eventually, Louis moved on with life. He never loved anyone as much as he loved Harry. No one could leave such a huge impression as Harry, and that was why no one ever bothered to love Louis. Louis didn't mind though. Louis eventually found friends at the camp, but no one special.

Louis died only two years after he made it to camp. He died of the flu that winter, the biting cold and lack of electricity making it harder to fight the illness. It was peaceful, the way he went. He died, in his sleep, clutching the drawing of Harry the girl had drew the year before.  


End file.
